Hallucinogens & Carcinogens
by GinAndTonicAndMaybeALemon
Summary: After Claude died, and Ciel became a demon, there were others who wanted to seek revenge for the spider demon's death. Sebastian realized this too late. Now, incarcerated in his own personal Hell, Sebastian struggles to hold onto reality. But the line between insane and sane really begins to blur.
1. Chapter 1- Hallucinogens

***Disclaimer- I don't own Kuroshitsuji, it's plot, or characters.**

***This chapter had been read by Sky-Esther. She told me she liked it, so here it is. Mistakes are all mine.**

**Pairing-** Slow-build Sebastian/Claude

**Warnings-** Rating may go up to M. Possible M sexual situations in later chapters (not entirely sure yet), M/M pairing. Might get angsty. Violence, coarse language, viewer discretion advised! Extra warnings may be placed at the beginning of chapters of any... *triggering* content... or *smut* content.

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**Hallucinogens- Part One**

Ciel fell as we tried to run from our pursuers. I grabbed him from the back of his collar, picking him up onto his feet, earning a glare from him. I knew he wasn't ready to run at these high speeds, he had always been bumbling about as a young human. If only I had foreseen this, if only I had taken into consideration that there just _had_ to be others out there, other demons who followed Claude. Other demons who would seek justice for him. Of course I had given it a tiny bit of thought, but I never knew that there would be so many willing to kill me and Ciel. I followed behing the younger demon closely, ready to fight anyone who would attack. I could hear our pursuers getting closer.

"Hurry up," I hissed as I picked up Ciel once more. He scowled.

"Shut up, Sebastian!" He retorts in the angry tone I know well; I find myself smiling. If he could only channel the anger into something more useful, something that prevented him from falling all over the place. I consider leaving him behind, but it is only a quick thought.

Jumping over a tree trunk, I look over my shoulder. The thick forest was dark, the moon illuminating occasional patches of dirt and flora. The air was humid, cloggin, everything silent but so alive. The 'things', my brethren, were catching up. They had been following us for a while, all the way from London. When I realized this, I got Ciel and moved East, South, North. We went through many countries, trying to lose them. They caught up to us in Paris, where I stopped briefly to let Ciel feed. The boy needed to, the running had exhausted him. He was only a newborn demon afterall, and I didn't want him to be driven insane by hunger. But now, running through some godforsaken forest, I realized what a bad decision that had been.

Ciel stopped, bending over tiredly. As angry as I was, I pitied him, he was too young a demon to handle this all. I quickly pick him up, ignoring his protests, and continue running. I could run like this for days, if the other demons didn't catch us first.

"They're gaining on us Sebastian," Ciel says harshly into my ear, wrapping his small arms tightly around my neck. I nod.

"I know. I can hear them." I jump over a small stream, my feet sinking into the mud on the bank. Scowling with disgust, I keep moving.

"If they catch up?"

"I'll kill them," I scoff, rolling my eyes. His arms tighten.

"There's so many though. Do you regret killing him?" He asks the question bitterly. I knew he was referring to Claude. I didn't, though, of course. Killing Claude was necessary. I could remember that place where we fought, how the demon's sword pierced his chest. I shake my head.

"No. You wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Sad, since we are probably going to die anyways."

I bite my tongue at his words. I was convinced we weren't. I felt that we would make it. I had been through worse before. Moving fast, the trees blur as I dodge them. Leaves and branches hit my face, birds shriek as I zoom by. And over all the noises of nature, I can hear them gaining on us. Multiple footsteps... I drop Ciel to the ground, whispering 'run', before turning around. Midspin, I grab my knives, and by the time I have rotated fully, one of the demons is impaled in the chest. The silverware sticks out, glistening. He grunts, just as another one appears behind him. I throw two more knives; they hit the second demon in the head, burying themselves in his eye sockets. He drops immediately.

I jump to the side as a third one appears, charging with a blunt silver sword in his hand. I move to the side again, dodging the point, lifting a knife and cutting his arm. He yells as well, and I use the same knife, stabbing his throat. The first demon is now standing up. He pulls the knife from his chest, running at me with it in his hand. I throw another knife at him, hitting his chest once more. He falls, but a fourth demon appears. I curse, then look around.

"Ciel, run!" I snap angrily. But the stubborn boy doesn't move, instead choosing to stand defiantly. I turn around again, but the fourth demon launches itself towards me. She is female, but strong, and sends me to the ground all the same. I have barely a second to process what has happened before looking down, watching her sink a spear in my stomach. I grimace, the look turning into a scowl. Shoving her away, I pull it out, using it to throw at the first demon, who still finds it in himself to get back up.

The demoness launches herself at me again. Her nails, sharp and long, catch my cheek. She springs like a cat, jumping to attack, retreating, jumping again. A_ real_ cat was nicer. I grab her wrist when she gets close again, twisting it, feeling her bones snap. She screams, using her other hand to hit me. I break it as well, and as I'm dropping her,, I hear a yelp.

"Sebastian!" I watch as Ciel tries to fight off a demon, punching it as hard as he can. His hit is perfect, but the thing just picks him up effortlessly. I run to them, but feel something hit my back, sending me to the ground. I try to get it off me, but the thing laughs. The laughter is masculine; I flip us over, but something else grabs my leg. I kick, but more demons appear. Surprise fills me, and I wonder where all of them have come from. They force me to the ground and try to gag me. I snarl, biting through the cheap fabric, but everyone merely laughs. Stubbornly, I try to fight , not admitting that the fight is over.

They cover my eyes, chaining my hands behind my back. I can still hear Ciel struggling. Lifting my head, I try to calm down.

"What are you doing?" I announce the question to everyone. The demons lift me, walking, laughing and taunting. They refuse to answer. I twist again, trying to escape there clinging grip. They respond by hitting me on the side of my head with something hard, and pain shoots through my body. Groaning, my head falls limply._ Ciel._ My head buzzes, pain sparking only briefly. Heat consumes me, and I close my eyes.

It feels like sleep.

_"Sebastian, wake up!" He calls for me. I nod my head to the side, feeling an odd sensation of being lifted. I can hear screams in the distance._

_"Shut up!" A voice replies to Ciel angrily, agrivated. I open my eyes, and the pain I feel is strange, unfamiliar. The blindfold has been removed, and I can see a dirty floor passing by. I can now also hear a low rumbling. Screams that constantly erupt, but are silenced. Smoke clogs my nostrils. The feeling is unfamiliar, but I know this place. I know it with all my being._

_"Sebastian!" Ciel sounds frustrated and panicked. I try to call out, but only a low moan escapes my mouth. I can hear others panicking now, saying things. 'He's awake'. The motion of me moving doesn't stop though. Perhaps I am being carried. Yes, carried... I was being carried earlier. My mind is too fuzzy too think though. I want to tell Ciel to shut up as well, but I can't form the words. I go back to sleep._

"Sebastian, wake up." His voice is more pathetic sounding now, much more so. Scowling, I open my eyes, lifting my head off of the dirt. I look around, glancing at dark cavern walls and large archways. Groaning, I pull myself to my knees, my hands still tightly cuffed behind my back. Demons surround us, their fuchsia eyes glaring hatefully. Hatred and sadism. I don't recognize anyone, these pale faces shadowed by darkness, clad in dark black cloths. I look around for Ciel, finding him a few feet away from me. He is bound too, his large eyes impatiently waiting for me to wake. I offer a smirk, he responds with a roll of his eyes. Only he could find this type of calmnesss during this situation, reminding me why I liked his company in the first place. I look back at our captors.

"What do you want?" I ask sharply. They mumble and laugh quietly.

"Revenge." They whisper the word in unison.

"Where are we? Why are we here?" Only I ask the questions. Ciel stays quiet, relying on me.

"We have bought you home, Michaelis. Bought Mr. Phantomhive to meet the family." They giggle again, why Ciel glances at me with a question in his eyes. I frown.

"We are not family."

"All demons are family."

"You are not the same demon class as me."

"But we bought you down all the same," they say all together, but now one male demons approaches me. He has black hair that reaches his shoulders, but wears it brushed severely back. Eyes glowing that menacing red, he glides across the uneven floor, talking alone:

"We are spider demons. We kill those who do us wrong. Family is family, after all." He giggles, his body shuddering with the action. I sneer.

"Faustus was..." I try to come up with a word that fits said demon, but can't think of any. I tilt my head. "What are you going to do?" I don't want to sound weak or inferior, but the fact of the matter is that _they _all have the upper hand. I twist my hands slowly, searching for a weakness in the cuffs. This male demon frowns.

"We would kill you. A suitable punishment. But no... we'll kill him," he looks pointedly at Ciel. "As for you, perhaps... eternity in a box." He giggles again, and is joined by everyone else. I take one last look at Ciel, watching his eyes widen, and he begins struggling again. He calls for me, commanding me to get us out of here. I look quickly for an escape, a way out of this impending sentence. They pick him up, lifting his small body like a feather, taking him away. _Ciel._ I call his name, pulling as hard as I can against the metal chains, feeling them stretch. I try to stand, but someone pushes me down. I work against the force.

"_Ciel._" I try to stand again, but fingers dig into my shoulder, holding me in place. Furtively, I twist and shake, straining againstthe cuffs. A snap, a push, and I am on my feet, going after the demons who are holding the boy. He manages to turn his head around, looking at me with his large eyes, now glowing fuchsia as well. He looks scared, but determined to get away. He is panicking. I run, but someone grabs me again. I lash out, knocking them away, sprinting, my feet sliding on the ancient floor. I am tackled, and as I fall to the floor, my head hitting the dirt, I watch Ciel's eyes plead with me while he disappears. He is gone. _Don't fail me, Sebastian._ _I have already failed you though_. I try to get back up, but more of these _things_ surround me, suffocating me with their laughter. _Sadism_. It was a mistake to go to Paris. A mistake to be distracted. A mistake to go after Ciel in the first place. I wouldn't be here if I had never met him.

It doesn't matter though. I try to go after him one last time, but he is now far away, cloaked demons taking him to whatever they have planned. Yelling angrily, I strain to move. The male demon with the dark hair approaches me once more, smirking.

"Welcome to Hell, Michaelis."

With a blow to the head, he knocks me out again. I sink into unconciousness a second time.

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**Author's Note: If you've have chosen to read this story, congratulations! You have made it through the first chapter! A big thank you for giving this story a shot. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated.**

**I had this plot in my head for a while, and I was going to post it on my other profile... but I didn't. So, here it is. It was inspired by the story "The Bet", by Russian author Anton Chekhov. Anyways, there are continuous references to other stories in here, a lot of them cultural based. They have been edited a bit to suit the story. Needless to say, I do not own them. I might make a note at the end of chapters to state which one's those are.**

**This little plot of mine takes place after season two of the anime. Also, this story has a ****slow ****relationship build. I am also focusing on character development more, so if a character is slightly OOC by the end, I'm sorry for whatever inconvenience this may have caused you (?). In relation to that, I'm focusing on a more weak Sebastian as well. I find it interesting when a normally strong character faces more challenges. The story is in first person, but I am sure you readers have figured that out already, rendering this sentence useless.**


	2. Chapter 2- Hallucinogens

**Author's Note: I think I just broke my rule about putting an AN at the beginning of the story. Just wanted to say that the story will get slightly more confusing, which was my intention for the beginning. Italics represent... well, randomness. So if confusion is your thing, you're in for a treat! All this will make more sense later. I'm pretty much setting up plot now. Just in case anyone wonders **_**why **_**it is confusing. Oh, and thank you for the reviews! **

**Mistakes are all mine.**

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**Hallucinogens- Part One**

It is a demon's normal instinct to sense surroundings, whether for food or danger. And the older the demon, the stronger they were, the more that they could remember every detail around them. Down to cracks in a floor, water dripping down the side of a glass, hot steam rising from a bowl of soup. They could feel everything, and see the difference between all objects, inanimate or not. But, at the same time, the scolding heat from a pot of water couldn't burn us, just as ice couldn't freeze.

Nevertheless, I hated this place, hated how uncomfortable everything was. The 'wrongness' of it all was unsettling. But I guess that was the effect my captors were going for when they created this room.

That demon, the male demon who had appeared to be the ringleader, was right to call the room a box. Square, about ten feet by ten feet, made of concrete walls that met a concrete floor. The ceiling was the same. A table on the left, metal bed on the right, a thin mattress with white sheets laying on it. The only source of color in this small slice of hell came from me. And, of course, the tiny brown bible with a black cross on the cover. The small book sat lonely on the desk, pitifully begging to be picked up and put to good use. Whoever put this place together was a sadist. Actually, I was almost certain all demons were sadists. With Ciel being the exception.

Then again, he had poured hot tea and food on me time and time again, so I could be wrong about the sadism.

Ciel. The name filled me with anger. Not directed at the boy, but rather at who had separated us.

I couldn't really feel him anymore. The contract that kept us linked while he was human, and later when he became like me, was fading away. Or perhaps it was already gone. A ghostly feeling, that's all I felt when my senses searched for his soul. Locked away in this bland room with nothing and no one, I would surely go mad.

I looked down at my sore hands, glaring at the cuts and bruises spotting my knuckles. I had done my best to escape. The only entrance was a large door, made of the same metal as the table and bed. My punches against the thick slate were useless. My kicks powerless. Even as I hit harder and harder, it didn't budge. I gave the walls the same treatment, but nothing changed. Not a scratch was formed.

And now, I sat still against the wall between the bed and table, staring at the door. The metal was dull and boring. My clothes, still the same butler design I've worn for the past years. The only difference is the lack of gloves and pocket watch. My knives were gone as well. I take off my jacket and lay it down besides me. It is torn, with blood and dirt embedded deep into the fabric. Useless now. I loosen my collar as I inspect the bed.

Four legs stick out the bottom, screwed into the floor. The posts are two inches in diameter, the same thickness as the top of the bed itself. The mattress is a good six inches thick though. I am tempted to rip it open, sort through the large cushion's insides to find something useful. Something to get me out. But I am doubtful of the contents it might contain. Upon inspecting the table, I discover it is screwed to the floor in the exact same way. Standing up to pace the small length of the room, I try to think of a plan.

"There is no handle on the door," I speak to myself slowly. "There is no visible lock. It is completely blank. All the walls are a light grey. You would think everything is being illuminated with a bright light... but there is no visible light source. The desk and bed are connected to the floor. There is a single bible and mattress as well." I glance at the bed, my eyes wandering over the pale white sheets. Sighing, I lay down, rolling onto my back to stare at the bland ceiling.

"...The bed is comfortable."

_"Sebastian, I'm thirsty." He sits up in his bed, dark hair falling in his face. With a sigh, I move from where I stand. Ciel has asked for me to watch over him tonight, something he has been asking rarely as of late. He hates being dependent, and rather than think of me doing a lot of his work, he thinks of me as a tool. He thinks of me as a sword, something that can be controlled by him. Me dependent completely on him, not the other way around. I'm fine with it, because at the end of day, I still get his soul. He will be mine, he IS mine. But for now, I abide to his every wish. I prepare him tea._

_"It's late, young Master. You should try to sleep."_

_"Shut up." His voice is drowsy, but he still talks in a commanding tone. Luckily for him, I have hot tea nearby for this exact situation. Even though he doesn't ask for my presence nowadays while he slumbers, he does on occasion wake up. I fill a cup, dripping in warm milk, some honey. When I first served him like this, he brought up the fact that it could make his teeth rot, especially so late at night after his teeth had been brushed. But I feel nostalgic. So, I serve the warm beverage, watch him drink it slowly. He questions with his eyes, wondering why I have served him this drink. I offer no explanation, and stand as a silent statue in the dark room. He finishes the tea quickly, handing me the cup. I take it, placing aside on a tray. He lays back down, burying his face in the pillows and sheets, burrowing himself into sleep. Sleep, for me, is a luxury. An activity I participate in rarely, except in cases where I need to pass time. Briefly, I find myself thinking, can demons sleep for centuries? Eons? Most likely._

_Could they sleep through death? While worlds changed and crumbled, could they remain unconscious? Could they sleep while their own bodies burned?_

_'M'aidez' _was scrawled in messy writing in messy letters on the bottom of the bed. Upon closer inspection of the room, I realized that I had not seen this before. This silent message, probably meant for whoever found themself in here. A silent message, most assuredly to me. Yes, definitely for me. I was meant to come across it. I run a finger lightly over it, wondering how it escaped my sight earlier. Thinking of what it meant. If I was correct, it was French. Why a human language was written in here was beyond me. Why not in another tongue, a demon tongue? I run my hand over it now. The letters are the size of a nail on a toddler's pinky finger, someone must have been hard-pressed to get these words out. The metal is so strong, not even I can bend it. Of course, I'm not supposed to be able to break it. If I were able to, it would defeat a part of the purpose of why I'm in here. _Locked away, without a source of entertainment, not a soul to talk to._

"M'aidez." I had visited France before I met Ciel. Only once. I had been in Paris, though I hadn't been on the run that time. I had been in a contract. A girl, named Moira, who's wish was to get her sister rich. A simple contract. Moira, only seven years old. The young had better souls, full of innocence, clean, pure, with the determination and willpower of an adult. Weak, yes, but they could want and crave. That particular contract had taken an hour to fulfill. An hour for Moira to revel in the fact that she had bought her sister happiness in the form of money, not realizing she had also summoned pain with her own death. And after I consumed her soul, she never had the chance.

M'aidez, the words the girl had screamed and called out to summon me. I had head those words many times, in many languages.

I wonder who had been in this small room before. By human standards, it is a bedroom. A bed, a table, if sorely cheap. But not my room. This place couldn't possibly be mine. _Because I will get out of here._ If I could leave it so carelessly, with no attachment to it, then no, it isn't mine. I refuse to say mine- it is just a room.

The door has the smallest space under it. I take the time to try and hear something, or someone, from the other side. It is silent, an ominous call. The demons here must trust it to hold me, to have no one keep watch. But no one wants to keep watch for eternity.

_Sebastian._ I can picture my Master calling me perfectly.

_Sebastian._ I can picture him on the other side of the door.

_Sebastian._ Where is he, right now? Is he still alive? Our souls are supposed to be connected. I can't feel him though. Can't I?

But I really don't care. Yes, we had been through a lot together. But, when I escape, if I have to leave him behind, I will. No second thought, no doubt. Better that way, really.

Besides, he is most likely dead by now. Tortured to death, of course. A demon's specialty.

_But no, we'll kill him._ That's what the demons said. Were they really followers of the spider demon? Spider demon... I avoid saying, even thinking the name. I hate it, hate _him._

_He throws the food at me, eggs nearly hitting my black uniform. I dodge it, with a bit of effort. He is a challenge. I like challenges, but even I must admit he is annoying. The situation is annoying. Tedious. Ciel's soul isn't the same, because ofnthis demon. This Claude Faustus. He is acting like a child._

_But so am I. Every glare, every snarl, every object and taunt thrown in his direction shows how truly low I've come. I blame him. A blame Ciel as well. I blame humans._

_Dueling, dodging knives and spears. Running, jumping, thowing, rolling. Finding Ciel, blood dripping from his hand. Exhaustion weighing him down, his weak hits on my head, my chest, as I pick him up like a doll. But that's not one of the moments I most hated._

_It was after Ciel stabbed Faustus' master. It was that moment, when Claude grabbed at Ciel, and MY master hit him in defiance. Blood from Ciel's cut, smearing on the spider demon's cheek. Blood, which Claude licked slowly, a random act. An addiction, formed deviously. He had to have my master, after just one taste._

_In a way, I won. Claude never got Ciel._

_I lost, because neither did I._

_I drum my fingers on the table. I'm in... the sitting room. I think. It looks like a sitting room. I glance at the back of my white glove, inspect some dust on the back. A smudge of dark grey. Frowning, I look around, trying to remember why I'm here in the first place. Everything looks old, dusty, dark. This is not the Trancy manor. It doesn't look like the Phantomhive manor; Ciel wouldn't put up with this disorder, this uncleanness. And yet, here I am. No, this can't be the place, the extravagant home built of danger and ambition, one of the wealthiest homes in all of London, the home that I was supposed to keep clean. But here I am. Everything smells musty, thick, the chair I sit on creaks with the slightest movement. Holes sit in fabric, an old tea set lays on the table, dry and brittle. I look at my fingertips. They have been covered with something dark, dust and whatever else has set itself on the table. I pull my hand away._

_"Master?" I scan the room, but there is no trace. No noise comes from the hallway. Whispering, heard from far away. Or perhaps it is just the wind. I move to stand._

_"Please, sit Michaelis. My Master will be here shortly." Claude is there, pouring tea in the cup. I frown, sense the... off-ness of the whole situation. The wrongness. But I can't tell what is wrong. Instead, I remain sitting._

_"Where is Ciel?" I ask automatically. I must know where he is, for it is my duty as his butler. There is something else I'm forgetting, something at the back of my mind-_

_"With Alois, of course." He keeps on pouring the tea as he answers, his voice apathetic. But there is a hidden message in his voice. He thinks I'm crazy. Also, wasn't the cup empty before.. dirty? It was. And yet, there it is, clean, shining. I should be alarmed... besides, as a demon, I don't drink tea. As a demon himself, Claude knows this._

_"Where are they then?" I ask, watching dark brown liquid fall down, down, into the cup, splashing when it hits the bottom. I can smell, smell the leaves, smell the dirt from which it grew. An earthly smell, foreign, even after all the years I've been here. I... shouldn't be here. This place, this life, something is wrong, everything is wrong. I try my best to stay still, remember what is wrong. What was I doing last? If I'm here, then I was originally with Ciel. I stand._

_"I'm going to find Ciel. My master might need me."_

_"__**Your **__master?" Claude watches me carefully. I hesistate, glaring, finding his presence irritating. He moves closer. "Ciel is my master."_

_"I beg your pardon? Ciel is my master." I say sharply. Claude steps closer, while I stop. He isn't- no. Ciel is... my master? Someone's master? No, he is no ones... because.. he is-_

_"Where is he?" I demand, stepping away. It was, is, wrong for me to be here. For some reason... he steps forward again, not giving me an answer. I can't remember where Ciel is supposed to be. Or why on earth I'm here. It angers me, all of it. It is frustrating, not knowing anything, this confusion, suffocating. And I can't concentrate._

_"I think you should sit down, Michaelis," he speaks in a low tone while stepping away, his stance changing. He is waiting for me to calm, but ready to attack if needed. I wonder why, when I realize how crazy I look. But I feel crazy. I turn to the door carefully, walking away from him. I expect him to attack, but no such thing happens. The carpet, thick and clean, stifles my footsteps. I listen, but no move is made from the demon still. Walking away from him, waiting, for Claude to move but, he doesn't, of course he can't, he is dead-_

_I pause, realizing what is wrong. This isn't real. Alois Trancy is dead, Ciel is captured, and Claude Faustus is dead, I know because-_

"I killed you," I hiss, turning, but falling-

-onto the floor. I am on the cold floor again, the cement hard under me. It hurts slightly, and I'm reminded that I haven't had a soul in so long. Stiffly, I push myself up, my cuts and bruises protesting. Standing, I look around the small cell, bed in order, desk clear, door still massive and unmoving. But nothing else. No hint of any other lifeforms, no voices from outside. Silence, deafening and cold. Frowning, confused, I try to think; had I fallen asleep? I have no recollection of it. I can't pass out, it should be impossible... then again, those demons effortlessly knocked me into unconciousness. So it could happen. I sit on the edge of the bed steadily, tired and anxious. I shove down the panic, which is useless. Panic is something I haven't felt in a while. Actually, I haven't really felt anything in a while. Only hunger.

_I am very hungry._ Was the other poor soul hungry? The one who wrote the message? _M'aidez._ _Help me, for I am hungry._ I glance at the door. I am determined to get out. I will not be stuck here forever.

I will escape.

_M'aidez._


	3. Chapter 3- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens- Part One**

_I should be worried to be here again. This time, I am prepared. I wait, not looking at the rotten wood, the table falling part, the cutains with holes. The tattered furniture. I stare instead at my white glove._

I am certain of a few things during my very, vey short stay in here, as I pace the grey floor.

One is that I will get out. There is no way around that.

The second is that there is something in these walls meant to fight _against_ demons. Every push I make with my bare hand only creates a sortnof equilibrium. Every force is met by an equal force. It goes for the door, and the walls. So brute strength is off limits.

The third thing, that unsettles me a little, is that the more I use my strength, the more I am drained of energy. A need to rest and heal engulfs me. It would have been wise to consume a soul while I was in the human world.

Finally, the fourth thing is the one I'm most aware of, though I'm not glad I am. It's that I'll go mad in here. I have nothing to do but sit at the end of the bed and stare at the wall. Or sleep from exhaustion. But sleep bought nightmares, _real nigtmares_, a thing I hadn't had since... well, probably ever. Albeit, all that happened is that I ended up in someplace, still in servitude to Ciel, carrying out tasks for him; if that's not a real nightmare though, then I don't know what is.

"As long as I don't start wearing a fur coat and start calling myself 'Nancy', I shall be fine," I say to myself affirmatively, voice slightly playful. If I can't have a little fun in the small things then there is no way I'll survive alone. I'm not some cold Reaper... I cringe at the thought of _their_ kind.

_"I SHOULD LIKE TO CALL YOU NANCY."_

Freezing, I turned around from where I paced. There was no one there though, no one to yell. No one sitting, standing. Not saying a sound, I dive to the floor, looking under the bed. Blank, no one grinning playfully, no creeping Tom. I glance to the ceiling to make sure, but still, no one. Dumbfounded, I sit on the bed, already tired. I pull my feet up off the floor; a childish act, being scared of the monsters under your bed. But I am only being practical. In a domain where the residents wouldn't mind cutting your foot off, I decided I was just using common sense.

As I sit with my back against the wall, I think, still analyzing everything to look for the voice. Something dawns on me.

The people who put me in here can do virtually anything they want. Why not try and drive me crazy? I glance at the door, my glare accusing, but then smile.

"Ah, the denizens of Hell have outdone themselves this time. Bravo." I almost want to clap mockingly. I remain silent again. I don't know what to expect, any demons probably wouldn't answer me. They were most likely laughing at me.

Minutes pass.

I've waited a long time during my entire existence. I didn't want to again. Impatient, I walk to the door, getting on my knees to look under and try to see what I can through that tiny inky blackness is on the other side. Still. I can hear what almost sounds like a wind, blowing from far away. I stand and move back to the bed.

_Dust hits my face. The wind is harsh and dry, and I do my best to shield his small body behind mine. Ciel clings to my jacket, opening his eyes a tiny bit. He wants to see as much as he can in this moment._

_"Everything looks dead," Ciel yells above the loud wind. His tone is still monotonous. I roll my eyes at his obvious assumption._

_"Everything IS dead. Not a... living soul around." I smirk, bringing up my hand to block out the mockery that is our sun. OUR sun... it's now Ciel's. Damned forever, the only sun that is his shall be the burning white and red orb in the sky. I look at the younger demon._

_"Very funny Sebastian." His tone is mocking my own now. I cringe at my name. He is the only one who calls me Sebastian. His eyes dart over the horizon, taking in the red and brown scenery. The dust snd sand is a fine beige. Mountains, far far away, look black over the distance. I watch the smoke rise from one._

_"Sebastian, what is that?" Ciel points to our left. There is a cloud coming, but too low. A dust cloud. I pick him up._

_"We should go, Master." I turn to leave. "It's not best to dwell during these things."_

My eyes flutter open, I find myself jarred awake. For the briefest second I am staring at the grey wall, next I am staring at black. Nothing. No light. But I can feel the bed under me still, though it sinks more with my weight. I move to the edge, planting my feet on the ground, only to feel something soft. Smooth and silky, the floor doesn't feel the same. I take another step towards where I think the desk will be, and find myself running into furniture. Wooden but smooth, I reach across It's surface, looking for something, some clue as to why I only see blackness. My hand closes around something round, I recognize the feeling of the wax.

Light again. The candle is lit, sitting tightly in my grasp. I look around.

I am home. Not my real home, but at the manor, I quickly correct myself.

The light shines brightly through the windows, almost too bright. Pale white curtains are drawn over them. Everything seems... brighter. Whiter. Cleaner and fresher. I can't smell the burning food that I would normally smell from the manor's kitchens. There is no yelling amongst the servants, no breaking glasses or fallen meals, the loud sounds of china hitting the floor. Just a silence.

I set down the candle, rushing to the door, breathing hard.

No one in the hallway. The halls, too, are bright. The normally dark decor is a shade brighter. Walls are just a shade off from the color of snow. The paintings are more unusual; pretty dresses and clothes, fine tailored suits, all in shades of black and grey. There are no faces.

I rush down another hall, coming to a stop at the flight of stairs. Walking down the steps one by one I feel a sort of joy as I stare at the double doors, the ones leading to the front, the gate, my escape. An enthusiasm to leave the manor, the place that had been my home for years, days.

I take the final steps to the door. My hand closes around the door, pulls, and the door opens with effort. The smell of dust, desert sand and wind hits me. The sun burns.

_I approach the doors catiously, sneaking around. Ciel has ordered me to investigate this mansion, so I shall. The triplets, the servants, keep things tidy. As does Hannah, the maid. I suspect Claude doesn't do much. I go through the first door I find._

_It is a guest room. Dark blue curtains are drawn over the window. Bed made, dresser with no dust on top. Desk to my right, mirror over it. But I decide to look at the dresser first. There is a spider on top of it, my heightened senses pick up on the sound of it crawling. Deciding to get rid of it, I move, but see movement in the mirror. I spin, feeling a blade scrape right under my chin._

_"Michaelis."_

_A name I haven't heard in a long time. I feel the blood from this mortal body escape me as I fall. I see a face with gold eyes._

I cough, springing up from the bed. My hands dart up to my throat as I look around, furious, ready to fight. But there is only the small-box room, the metal door, desk bed. Blinking, it feels like my skin has bugs all over it, and I scratch. Red catches my eye.

Blood. On my palm, now under my nails. Unbelieving, I reach up to touch my chin, my neck. A sharp pain pulls at me. The shock is enough to make me forget about the itchiness. Looking at my hand, I watch the fresh blood sit on it. Blood drips onto my chest, staining the white shirt, splashing onto the white sheets.

_Maybe I've already gone mad._


	4. Chapter 4- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens- Part One**

_I can't recall the name of my surroundings, all I can recall is being here before. A long time ago. A stairway with a landing in the middle of it, where I am sitting. The walls and ceiling are white, the double doors at the top and bottom are a steel grey. A steel railing cuts through the middle of the steps. Everything is cold._

_"Would you kill him again, if you had the chance?" I turn when he asks me the question. He is wearing blue today, like everyday._

_"Of course, Master. He stole you from me." I answer, my voice apathetic. I don't move from where I sit, choosing instead to stare at the wall. Ciel continues standing at the bottom; I can feel him staring up at me. I look back at him, wondering what he wants. He looks relaxed for once, not on edge like he used to be, not holding himself up like Earls were supposed to. It is unsual, strange, and doesn't suit him. We stare at each other for a while, not talking or moving. Finally, he sighs, looking toward the top of the stairs. I don't have to look to know who it is._

_"Want me to kill him, Master?" I ask quietly. But Ciel doesn't even look at me, he doesn't speak. He is still as a statue. This entire place is wrong, but I feel a certain peace with it. I turn to Claude._

_"You shouldn't be here," I say smoothly. I know he SHOULDN'T, but I can't remember WHY. But it isn't important right now. At least, I don't think._

_"What are you doing here?" He asks me, ignoring my statement. _

_"I don't know. I can't remember why I got here." I look back at the wall. "I don't belong here."_

I am absolutely determined not to sleep, only to focus on escaping. My train of thought is redundant though. All I think is _escape_, with no proper plan, no way of actually doing it. Like an animal in a cage. My inner demon wants to tear down the walls, and, _maybe,_ find Ciel. I might be using 'maybe' excessively too. Plus, my hand is still red, as are my clothes.

Whatever the light source is, it flickers on and off again. I freeze my pacing, looking around. Nothing is out of place. I am not hallucinating, there is no other scenery, besides the boxed in room, the steel bed and desk. The door. I start pacing again, slowly this time, listening for something.

The lights turn off, then back on. It occurs to me that, since I can see in the dark, it should be no problem. Yet it is, and it's unnerving. I don't stop moving though. What would happen if I pretended nothing is wrong?

_Tick._ A noise. Perhaps it is what is making eveything go black. Still, I keep up the slow shuffle. _Tick._ Everything goes dark, longer this time, before lighting up again. Maybe that is the way out? Through the darkness? _Now I sound crazy. _I already am, I suppose. No, I'm _not._ It is this place doing this to me, the demons, everything. I just need to maintain my sanity.

_Tick._

It goes dark again, but I keep on going. Everything lights up again. Same room. _Tick. Tick. Tick._ My footsteps match the noise. _Tick._ Time feels like it inches by slowly. Giving up, I lean against the door, my back sliding down slowly until I am sitting. My hands lay by me lazily. _Tick._ Moving them, I slide my fingers under the door, but all they feel is cold metal and stone on both sides of them. Not moving, I close my eyes.

"This is ridiculous. Why lock your own kind away," I call out, praying someone hears me. The thought of praying brings a smile on my face.

"Anyone, listen to me. This is..." Closing my eyes and leaning my head against the door, I try to think. _Ridiculous._ _Idiotic. Horrendous._ I can't hink of a word to describe this situation.

_Tick._

"This is..." I sigh angrily.

_Tick._

"This is... _absolutely annoying,_" I growl as I jump up, looking for that blasted noise. _Tick. _Angrily, I throw the thin matress onto the ground, ripping off the sheet. I tear the flimsy cushioning open, ripping through, finding nothing but fluff and feathers. Red scrapes like old paint on the white fabrics. I search through the sheet, effectively shredding it to pieces. _Tick._ I pause, then search through my pockets, looking for the source of the noise, before growling and going back to the door, looking under that small space. I can not see anything under it, nor on the other side of it.

_Tick._ I freeze, turning around, crawling to the bed. I let out a laugh, grabbing the object. A watch. _My watch._ Did I have it on me when I came in here? I am certain I didn't, or I would have noticed. My hand closes around the shiny metal, feeling it. Exhausted, but content that I found the source of the noise, I lay among the teared mattress and fabrics, closing my eyes.

_"Tell me a story, Sebastian," Ciel orders. I nod, sitting on the edge of the bed. It is late, and he needs to be up early, but I don't say this. It isn't my place._

_"A long time ago, there was a hunter, with one dog."_

_"What kind of dog? What was the name?" Ciel curls onto his side, pulling a pillow to his chest to hug tightly._

_"Male, black wih soft brown eyes. His name was... demon."_

_"Demon?" Ciel frowns._

_"Do you want to hear the story or not?" I ask, looking at him. He pouts and nods quietly. I look at the floor, continuing on._

_"One day, they went out to hunt. The hunter was a poor man in the woods, living alone, except for the dog. One day, the hunter sees a rabbit. He lifts his gun, taking aim, when a crow appears, landing on a branch. Sleek and black, the crow calls out,_

_'Leave it, hunter. There are better things ahead.'_

_"Scared and surprised of the talking animal, the hunter obeys, moving on to find something else with his dog. A while later, he sees a doe. Happy, and thanking the bird silently, he lifts his gun, when the bird flys overhead, speaking once more. 'Leave it, hunter, there are better things ahead'. Confused, but not wanting to disobey, the hunter takes his chance. He moves on as the doe runs off, the dog still following the man. Some time passes, and the hunter finds a huge buffalo, already dead, having fallen off a cliff._

_"Ecstatic, the hunter prepares to cut up some meat, glad to have found the animal. He is happy, knowing he and his dog will be fed for days, and the hunter can make use the the buffalos bones and hide. He didn't even have to waste a bullet. Suddenly, the bird flys by again._

_'Leave it, hunter, for there are better things ahead.' The hunter scoffs, thinking, there can be nothing better than this large animal. But he doesn't want to disobey the talking crow. He gets an idea._

_'I'll find somewhere to hide. When the wicked crow is gone, I shall go back for the animal.'"_

_I sigh and look at Ciel, who is starting to fall asleep, his eyes drooping. He pouts again, wiping at his eyes._

_"Keep going, Sebastian. I want to know what happens."_

_"You are tired, Master. How about I tell you tomorrow? As a reward for the work you'll be doing." I get up, moving closer to him. I fluff his pillows and pull the blanket to his chin, and he settles down, closing his eyes. He rolls over onto his side, and I blow out the candles, waiting for him to fall asleep. When he is relaxed, his breathing steady, I leave to prepare for tomorrow. Every day is a busy day at the manor._

I feel like I want to throw a temper tantrum again. I am sitting at the dining table of Phantomhive manor, but everything is white. The only source of light comes through the windows, but it feels fake, artificial. It doesn't offer warmth; then again, I don't truly know what warmth is. Not really anyway. Claude sits all the way on the other end, but I can see him clearly through the distance between us. I don't want to be here, I know it can't be real. But this time, I won't run or fight. I need answers. My head feels clearer. I know there aren't any Masters here.

"Faustus."

"Michaelis," he answers calmly, leaning against the back of the chair.

"Where are we?"

"You don't know, so why should I know?" Only his mouth moves, like a ventriloquist doll, everything but the mouth still. He is wearing his butler clothes, the black suit, white shirt. Clean, too. Not like mine. I notice I don't have my jacket, but my shirt is still covered in blood.

"So... you imply that what you know, I know. So this isn't real," I look around, smirking to myself. "Of course, obviously it isn't real. But neither are you...?"

"I suppose."

"Is this purgatory? Limbo?"

"You know you're in Hell." Claude moves, a doll coming to life. He motions around us. "You should know this place, Michaelis. It is, after all, your design."

My design? Yes, I recognize the place. No, I did not design it. But I understand what he means.

"So, this really isfrom my mind. I suppose," I blink, looking around some more. The whiteness is unsettling. "Then you are not real. A figment of my imagination. The question is, why are _you_ here? Why not someone else who means more to me?" I look back at Claude.

"You know why." Claude looks at the door, sighing. "Can you smell that? Food. The feast is ready."

I sniff the air. But there is nothing.

* * *

**A/N: The story in this story was one I learned from a teacher. She said she heard it as a girl in Africa. Just thought I'd say that, I like giving credit where it is due.**

**If I forget to reply to reviews, I am sorry. I read them, but forget to answer. I like them though, they keep me motivated to keep on going. So thank you xxxx**


	5. Chapter 5- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens- Part One**

_"Finish the story, Sebastian," Ciel commands as he settles into bed. "The one from last night."_

_"As you wish, Master." I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands as I recollect the story in my thoughts. It is easy for me to remember; I never forget._

_"The hunter finds a cave to hide in with his dog, and he goes in, smiling. He is eager for the bird to go away, so he can colllect the buffalo. Walking in deeper, and deeper, the hunter notices the cave is too deep to be normal, he decides to walk on, since he might need to wait for the bird to go away. As he walks, he notices the cave getting, wider, taller, and steeper. His dog follows loyally as they ascend over a hill. The hunter marvels at the sight before him in disbelief._

_"All around, as far as the eye can see, there is fields, small houses, and animals. A river and a small pond. A forest. Amazed, the hunter decides to investigate. He approaches a small village, and women come out to greet them. He notices there are no doors, only doorways. Only women surround him. They tug him, begging him to come for supper. Deciding that with the amount of luck he has had today, he would go."_

_I stop talking, turning my head to look at Ciel. His eyes are large, taking in the story. _

_"Keep going, Sebastian," he says. _

_"They wine and dine him, introducting him to an old, old lady, with long hair an sharp teeth. She introduces herself as the leader of the village. The woman obey her every command, they don't talk unless spoken to, they brush her hair and rub her feet. The dog whimpers out of fear; such is the power of this women." I pause for effect. "'I request only one thing,' the old woman says. 'Stay for the night, and you can leave on the morning with anything you wish.' The man is surprised at the request, but agrees, but not before asking why._

_"'We haven't had a guest come through here so long,' is the answer she gives as she leads him to a fine house. He asks one more question, wondering why there are no doors._

_"'There can be no secrets here,' she responds with quickly,not offering more. He goes inside the house, finding himself a room to sleep in. The dog still follows, but settles by the front door. As the man sleeps, the dog stays up all night, wide awake._

_"In the middle of the night, when nothing can be heard but the animals in the forest and the soft wind, the old woman approaches the house, two long knives in hand. __**Whisk, whisk,**__she sharpens them, walking up the path. __**Whisk, whisk**__."_

_I turn to look at Ciel, whose eyes have grown larger. He curls up tighter under the covers, his tiny hands clinging to the blankets. Sighing, I move closer, placing the pillows properly. _

_"Keep going, Sebastian! I want to hear the end!"_

_"Perhaps another night," I say, pulling the blankets around him as best I can, although he had already done a fine job himself. He protests, but I shush him. "We wouldn't want nightmares, would we?"_

_He reluctantly agrees, and prepares for sleep. I put out the candle and leave the room._

I had only blinked for a second, and there was food. Unusal, not the fact that there was food, but that it was _white._ Pure white, no other color. I am still absorbing the fact when I notice Claude isn't eating it.

"You are not going to eat?"

"Of course not." He rests his hands on the table, not saying anything. My head is clear, but undoubtedly confused. _This place is not... real? Unless it is a trick._ I look around, trying to see out the windows, but there is only white. Claude doesn't move from his spot. Deciding that he will not do anything if he is not real, I go and check the door, pulling on it. It opens smoothly, but I am only looking into a white hallway, white carpets, even white unlit candles. I cannot heat anything. Nothing at all. I back away and let go of the door, watching it slowly shut. I spin around.

"How do I get out?"

"You are already out."

"That's not what I mean!" I scoff, movig toward a window. "Stuck in here with only one person who is a _bloody idiot._"

I wait for a reaction to my comment as I try and open the window, but it doesn't budge. I try to look through the glass, but it is frosted, I can't see anything through it. The _thing_ still has not responded; I am sure it is not Claude. Claude would respond with a snarky comment. I turn around.

"What are you? How do I get out?"

"You know what I am. What are you?" Now he smirks, as if he truly is enjoying this.

"How do I get out?" I ask persistently, my tone icy.

"Why should I tell you?"

"So you _do_ know how to get out?" I ask. "You told me before you did not how to get out."

"No, I did not," he says slowly. "You imagined that."

"No, I did not. I asked... I asked how to get out..." I stop and think. _Didn't I ask that earlier? I should have. It's something I would have asked..._ I move towards Claude slowly, deciding I must be going mad. I am right besides the table now, glaring down at him. "How. Do. I. Get. Out?"

He leans back, pulling his hands off the table.

"Why. Should. I. Tell. You?" He states every word with a punch like I did. Frustrated, I slam my first on the table loudly. A crack can be heard, and plates go flying, food falls, cutlery clatters.

"_How do I get out?"_ I yell angrily, mustering up my demanding tone. He doesn't respond, sitting calmly with his hands resting on his lap. I want to smash those glasses off, make him _do_ something. Upset, I toss the table effortlessly away, hearing the large white thing crack again, making the sound of splintering wood. Every thing falls of it, the table cloth rips apart. I yell again. "_Tell me something! Anything!_"

When he does answer, I scowl and turn away, sick of it all. _I want out._ I curse Ciel, who, if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have gotten himself taken by _Claude_, I wouldn't have killed Claude, Ciel wouldn't be a demon. _I wouldn't be here._ I walk to the window again, pushing against the glass. It very slowly cracks. Is there anything on the other side? I push harder, watching cracks spread like a spider's web, mirroring the image of veins.

"Sebastian," he says catiously, and I turn around, about to tell him off for calling me _that_ name, tell him off for talking to me at all, but I stop. The table is not broken. It sits, prefectly still, in the middle of the room, with Claude at on end. The plates, forks and spoons, all organized to prefection. The food is still on top. Nothing has changed, and I am still standing next to it, only an inch from the table itself. Like I was not just across the room a second ago.

"How-" I cut myself off, knowing I will not get a straight answer. Claude does not move, at least, not until he realizes what I am about to do. Spinning on my heel, I take off to the window, sprinting head on. I charge through the glass, bringing up my hands to protect my face, but it is a second too late. Something hits my forehead, a fiery pain burns through it. Metal.

_Oh._ The feeling hit me like a snap. My head still burning, I fall to the floor while looking up. The room spins, my sight narrowing down to a small circle.

The metal frame of the bed, _my_ bed, sits there, covered with blood, dented in where my head just apparently hit it. I must only be inches from it, but with my tunnel vision, it appears to be a yard. I am, undoubtedly, back in my cell.

My ears ringing, my head burning, I lay the side of my cheek on the cold floor, hoping it would make the pain go away.

That hurt like Hell.

_I am running for the door again. This time, the mansion is not quiet. Alive with the roar of flames, it consumes and destroys. Not wanting to burn while I'm in my 'human' body, I move for the door, sprinting. But the flames move just as fast as I do, eating everything. Couches, cushions, rigs, paintings, are swallowed by it. The fire is catching up. It stings at first, heats up, a warning before the burning starts._

_I can see the door now, slowly closing. I can see daylight on the other side. I hit it with full force, my shoulder taking most of the impact, and it rocks me. Landing on solid ground, I can still hear that loud roar, spreading. I try to run again, but find myself exhausted, on my knees, even as the fire descends. I can feel myself burning._

"Hell," I curse under my breath. That curse now takes a too literal meaning. I try to get up, finding that I'm on my stomach. I touch my head; it is like it always is. There is not a cut or a scrape, and no pain shoots through it. I am confused, but too dazed to properly give it some thought. I look at the bed, but there is not blood on it. Pausing, I notice something off.

There is not _anything_ on it, besides what I first found when I came. The mattress is clean, the sheets have no blood. Nothing it torn apart, ripped to shreds. My jackets lays folded on one end too. I am convinced this is some sort of sick joke.

It is maddening.

_"Sebastian, finish the story."_

_"Not tonight, Master. It will give you nightmares." I tuck him in again, watching the face that gives me a glare, upset with me not complying. I try to smile. "You have a big day tomorrow."_

_"You say that everyday," Ciel grumbles._

_"But tomorrow, it really is. Lady Elizabeth, remember?"_

_"How could I forget?" He looks at the open window, and I walk toward it, shutting it tightly. I draw the curtains on some too, letting the moonlight shine through others. The room would be dark to Ciel, the furniture on black shrouded outlines, the dark places in drawers and under the bed an unknown fear. I can dee everything though. I walk back to him._

_"How about I tell another story? One that is not so terrifying? And tomorrow, I can finish the other one? What do you say?" I sit on the edge of the bed while he sits up more, eager to hear it. He nods, picking up a pillow to hug close to his chest. After he looks comfortable, I start. _

_"There once was a village that lay relatively undisturbed. They had tons of farmland, access to water, strong houses and animals. But the village relied heavily on strong young adults or children to keep things running, since they were tougher, and more resistant to infections and injuries. One day, the older people began to have nightmares, and the young children began going missing."_

_"This isn't supposed to be scary?" Ciel scowled, his eyes silently accusing me. I smirk and continue with the story. _

_"Soon enough, the people with nightmares talk of seeing a woman while they sleep. A woman who stops them from breathing, taking somethig from them. Certain that this is who is taking the children, the villagers search far and wide, all throughout the village, for this woman. But they find no one._

_"The younger adults, however, decide to look for her at another time; at night. So, when most people have gone to sleep, locking their doors and putting up protection, they search. At first they find nothing, there is only the silence of the sleeping village. They continue to search, and come across a man._

_"'Hello,' he greets kindly. They respond with the same. He asks what they are out so late for. They tell him about the missing children, the nightmares, and the woman. He gives it some thought, and tells them that the woman is 'of night'. They are confused, and he explains,_

_"'A woman of the night is one who feeds off of people in the night, while they sleep.' He informs them that there once was a man and woman, twins, who were both humans, people of the day, before they began killing. They would finish familes, the woman-twin going after the adults. And the man-twin going after the children. When they were condemned for what they had done, they fell to a darkness. And they fed at night, no longer children of the day._

_"'How do we defeat her?' the children asked the man._

_"'Give me a home and a bed, as well as wood, and I'll take care of her.'_

_"'What would you like in return?' asked the children._

_"'For her to be dead is a gift enough. In return, though, I shall too, stop killing the children.'"_

"Sebastian, get up," a voice says softly, and I roll onto my back, trying to open my eyes. The pain still burns, but it is everywhere now. I decide to keep my eyes close when the light hits them, stinging. The cold floor makes my back feel stiff. I wave my hand in the direction of the voice as I open my mouth, feeling a need to tell them I am alright. Instead, I cough, inhaling gulps of musty air that fills my lungs, pooling inside, creating a storm that tastes like dust. I cough again, sitting up, forcing myself to look around.

I am alone, as usual. As soon as I am up, the pain completely clears, disappating. But I still breathe, finding a need for this air, even if it is cold and dirty. Gasping, I stand, forcing myself up.

_I am in control._

_I am in control_.

I convince myself that I am fine. Force down any feelings of uneasiness, pushing away confusing thoughts and ideas that are terrifying. I need to focus on one thing only. Escaping. I look around the small room, and I remember things as if they only just happened. Hitting my head on the bed. Seeing the carnage I did, in fact, create. The room is in utter chaos, the mattress and sheets on the floor, blood everywhere.

But, when I woke earlier, everything was fine.

Had I dreamed it?

Or was I dreaming right now?

Everything felt too clear to be a dream. Besides, I can still recall tearing this room apart for the watch-

_The watch!_ If I can find it, then it would prove I have not gone mad. I search my pockets, then the floor. I am in a mad scramble to find the device that had been driving me nuts earlier. Earlier... what was the time? I had no idea if it was day or night. Then again, that was human time. Why cling so hard to human time? I tell myself that it does not matter, that I am a demon. I am not human. I am a monster, something that everything should fear. A great and powerful being. Lost in my thoughts, I hear it again, that sound that makes my brain itch, causes me to grind my teeth. That infuriating, yet comforting, noise.

_Tick._

* * *

**I hope this chapter makes up for late updates. And my new accidental habit of forgetting to thank you all for the reviews. In other news, Sebastian is getting more and more... whatever you want to call it. And I hope you all enjoy that. Sorry for any mistakes.**


	6. Chapter 6- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens- Part One**

"You know, that is really not going to help"

I choose not to answer him, or listen to his advice, and keep trying to open the door. Or find something useful. My fingers are wedged underneath the door, quite painfully. I've determined that the large slab of metal is more than five inches thick. No matter, I will figure out a way around it. I just need to think outside the box-

"You are wasting time doing that. If you want to get out, think like a demon. This bible is really amusing too, Michaelis, you must read it."

I try to block out his voice. He seems determined to say. This is either an elaborate ruse made by the demons who placed me in here, or he is from my own mind. My mind, which seems to be descending into madness. I withdraw my hand and stand, pacing again. _Tick._ I hear the noise again, but I have not found that blasted watch. The room is still torn apart, and _he_ sits on the desk, since there is no other place satisfactory to sit. The bible sits in his hands as he flips through it. I glance at him quickly, only to find myself staring into gold eyes. I scowl at him and resume pacing in the tiny space._ My space. Not his._

"But the bible does not talk about how we were created. Do you remember how we were created?" He looks back to the bible. Giving in, I go to sit on the edge of the bed, placing my head in my hands. When I don't answer, he keeps going. "I can't remember. Then again, I'm not really _me._ Not a demon..."

His voice drifts off as he settles into his own thoughts. I squeeze my temples, willing him to go away, but when I lift my head, Claude is still there. I can't remember how he got there, all I remember is turning around, and there he was. Out of thin air. I cursed, I threatened, but he did not go. He stayed. And I figured that if he was here to kill me, he would have already. But he hasn't. Instead, he actually seemed very peaceful. Constantly offering up chances to conversation. And now, I've chosen to ignore his presence. If I ignore, maybe he'd go away.

"Ignoring me is not going to help, Michaelis. In fact, talking to me might even benefit you. Help you get out." I look up as he talks, eager to hear what he has to say. But Claude goes silent, staring at me through his glasses. He might even be _irritated _with me. At least, that is how he looks. I sit up, ignoring the uncomfortable metal frame of the bed I am sitting on.

"What do you know? If you are a ruse, then you will not tell me anything. If you are a hallucination, then you only know as much as me." I look down at the floor, ignoring the blood stains. My blood stains. It is getting harder to separate what is real and what is not. But everything _feels_ real. The only thing that does not feel real is Claude. And that ticking I hear from so far away, and yet it sounds so close. I close my eyes. _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

Maybe. I've been using that term a lot now. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm sane. Maybe Faustus is still alive. Maybe he isn't. Is Ciel still alive? Maybe. Maybe not.

Ciel. I try to avoid thinking about him. Does it bring me pain? Of course not. More like a sense of... being uncomfortable. Because I let him down? Have I yet? Is he still alive?

Maybe.

"Would you save him?" Faustus asks. He is leaning on a wall. An absurd position for him. Then again, better then other possible positions. I don't need to ask who he is talking about. It'd be only right that he is thinking about Ciel as I am. Afterall, is he not a part of what my mind created? Therefore, he shares my thoughts. My subconcious, unconscious, among other conscious'.

"Maybe. If I had the chance. It would be a shame, leaving the boy behind, after all I've done to get him."

"He's not a boy anymore. And you would leave him, if it meant you could get away, yes?" Claude still watches me with those unnerving yellow-gold eyes. I nod. He smirks.

"Time in Hell hasn't helped you at all, Michaelis." Claude looks at the wall, as if he has found something interesting. Something lost, now found. A bug, pinned down by it's legs, a pin through it's abdomen. Held in place, in a collection of other lost bugs. Not lost, dead. I look away, not really caring for conversation.

"You came here to repent."

"I came here to suffer."

"You suffer to repent."

"I am a demon. I shall never be forgiven." I glare, my eyes narrowing in anger, my mouth forming into a scowl, a frown. "You of all demons should know that best."

"You are talking about my death. You haven't bought that up in a while. But if I truly died, then I wouldn't know best, for I am dead."

"Destroyed, not dead," I whisper, my voice hissing slightly. I don't know why, but I take offense in this. Dead, is meant for humans. Animals. Corpses, rotting, falling apart, being chewed away by insects. Decomposition occuring, turning the dead into fertilizer. The circle of life, forever going around and around. Or maybe like a pendalum, rocking back and forth. Just when the pendulum stops at what end, when everything freezes, it all falls over again. Traveling the same path. Either way, death represents a new beginning, as opposed to lifem which represents a current beginning, a life already started. Is there even a difference? I don't know, or care. Destroyed is not dead. Destroyed means no coming back. No chance to start over.

"Destroyed, not dead," he repeats. I want to ask him to leave. But I don't. I want company. I want solitude, peace and quiet. A struggle between two opposites.

My thoughts are barely making any sense.

"_The children obey the strange man, and they give him what he requests. For the night, the man sharpens a stick, before laying in the bed quietly, stock still," I talk as Ciel watches listening to the story. "Soon, a woman comes in. Tall and beautiful, with long black hair and pale skin. She walks over, catiously standing onto the bed, and leans forward, careful not to wake him. But just as quickly, the man springs up. The sharpened stick plunges through the woman's chest, sticking out her back. Quickly, he throws her to the ground, and moves to grab some oil and sticks. He watches her bleed out. The dark liauid soaks the ground. He pours oil on her, then starts a fire. In the light of it, all he can do is watch her. Stare at the twin whom he used to know._

"_As the fire spreads, the village wakes and moves to view the spectacular tower of flames. That smell of burning wood and cloth, as well as something dead. The children watch closest most of all. Staring into the flames, they cannot see the man. Or anyone. As the villagers rush to get water to put it out, it dies down. Soon, there is nothing but char remains of a home that once was there. Blank. And black. No one seen the woman again, and no one seen the man again. They were just… gone."_

_I look at Ciel, who is watching me with large eyes. He frowns, confused._

"_Where did the man go?"_

"_No idea. Perhaps he travelled."_

"_But where?"_

"_I don't know, Master. It is just a story. From ages ago." I reach over to tuck him in, and he stops me._

"_You have to finish the other story. That's an order."_

_I smile at the command._

"_Yes, my lord."_

* * *

"What are you smiling about?" Claude asks the question with apathy.

"A story. A ridiculous story." I grin at Claude, and he narrows his eyes.

"You are definitely going crazy, aren't you."

"Fine then. Go away. I don't like you anyway." I look at the blank wall across from me. "I'm just bored, and since you are apparently staying in my little slice of Hell, I was just thinking maybe you'd want to hear it."

"Forget it. I'm not happy about being here. Besides, I thought YOU didn't want to talk to ME."

"Oh, go to Hell," I growl under my breath before I think the statement through. I pause and look at him, glaring a warning that says _don't you say anything._ Claude, or whatever you want to call it, doesn't. Bored, annoyed, angry, I try to get back to thinking of an escape plan. It wouldn't hurt to think ahead. If I get out, no, not if, I WAS going to get out… but if I did, then what? What did the space outside my door look like? Darkness? I could see with no light. But the question still remained, what was I going to do. My room was built to fight against me. So, maybe, hopefully, the world outside wouldn't. Every kick I would make would send a wall crashing. And every punch would send columns to the depths of Hell. _When_ I got out of here, I was especially looking forward to gutting those goddamn-

"I want to hear it," Claude says, startling me from my thoughts. I look at him.

"You want to hear the story?"

"Yes, that is what I just said," Claude scowls, and I sigh.

"Okay. Let me think for a moment." I close my eyes, reminiscing. Conjuring up the plot. "A long time ago, there was a hunter…"

* * *

"_**Whisk, whisk,**__ the old woman approaches the door, weapon in hand. Suddenly, the dog springs out, biting her arm. She screams and flees, shouting curses left and right. The dog stays faithfully by the door, guarding it, as his master rushes by to see what the noise was about. The dog looks up at him innocently, and he scolds him for making noise, blaming him for the racket. The master goes back to sleep, while the dog waits and stands guard until morning._

"_The sun rises high in the sky, and the man wakes. The old woman comes up to the house to greet him, but stops short when she see the dog._

"'_A tree needs cutting outside the village, for our fire. Surely, you can help us?' she asks the man, and he agrees. 'Wonderful. But you must lock your dog away while I take you out to the tree, he is vicious and I'm too old and frail to be around him'_

"_The hunder agrees to this as well, and they both head off in search of this tree. Finally, them come across a mighty oak, nearly one hundred feet tall, but old and brittle. The man carefully climbs it, ascending branch by branch. The old woman watches him go up, and when he is about a quarter of the way up, she commands,_

"'_Cut down the highest branches first.'_

"_Of course, he agrees. Silly man, she thinks. Now she can just knock the tree over, or shake it, and he will plunge to his death. She begins sharpening her knives, preparing for a feast._

"_Meanwhile, in the village, the dog barks and howls inside the cage he was locked in. The women of the village don't know what to do. They panic, trying to hush him, when suddenly a crow flys overhead._

"_Release the dog,' the crow commands._

"_Terrified of a talking bird, the woman obey, letting the dog loose, and he runs, yowling through the forest. The old woman is preparing to take down the tree when he runs into her, jumping from a sprint, sending them both to the ground. She screams, and dies soon after of her wounds the dog inflicts. The rest of the village hear the commotion, and they rush after the dog. The hunter climbs down when he hears the commotion as well, only to find the woman, laying dead on the ground, and the dog, sitting obediently for him._

"_When the village arrives, he is scared at what they might say, but instead they thank him._

"'_The old woman was crazy,' the women tell him. 'She killed our husbands, and our children, who knows what she might've done next.'_

"_The man is shocked, but chooses to stay and help them fix what she has ruined, and soon decides to stay for many years. Finding a family of his own, having a fine house instead of his old one, he no longer has to be alone. The dog stays with him as well, innocently loving and waiting on his master._

"_And every night and day, when the sun first comes up and goes down, he leaves food out for the crow."_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, that was fun. That story… escalated quickly.

The story about the vampire came from my own mind.

Story with the crow, like I said before, was a story once told to me.

Also, thanks for the reviews! I still have not fixed my habit of forgetting to respond to them…. I think. Sorry for mistakes. Particularly spelling and grammar.

Hopefully, this entire story will become a bit clearer by next chapter. And not as hectic/crazy as it has been getting. Well, it still will be getting crazy… it seems as though I've contradicted myself. Until next time!


	7. Chapter 7- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens-**** Part One**

* * *

"'The path to paradise begins in Hell'. A very accurate description, if the human idea of Hell holds up." I fix my sleeve for what feels like the hundredth time. Rolling it up, folding the cuffs, then moving onto the other one. It was an interesting concept about Hell, something peculiar to think about. But that's all it was. An idea. If I were to be honest, I had lost track of time. The days, if there were any, seemed to be passing slowly. But I realize that, in all likelihood, they were passing quickly. That _tick_ sounded often, like an echo, and I could only wonder what it meant. Where it was coming from. If it was here. Then, every so often I'd reach down to my pocket and feel the piece of metal sitting tightly, the contraption still working.

Would it ever break down? Surely, after a millennia, it would fall apart into dust. _I probably would too._

"I don't think we'd live to last in here forever. We'd go insane." Claude's voice is cold, but curious at the concept he is talking about.

Closing my eyes again, then opening them, I focus on the wall in front of me. There is a light crack running through it, a bump that ruins the perfect black grey. I stare at the wall quietly, buzzing out my hearing. Not listening to _it_, if I can help it. Because Claude seems absolutely determined to talk. _I'm definitely going crazy._ I squirm uneasily on the stiff floor; I don't want to sit on the colder bed, especially since I haven't bothered to... fix it.

"Do you think demons were born from other demons, created from nothing, fallen from angels, or made from humans?"

The voice, even though it is smooth, grates on my nerves. I wonder what would happen if I just kill Claude. It'd be the second time, so it wouldn't be a big deal. But the room is small, I'm not sure what would happen. Or if he was even _real._ Which would be helpful to know.

"Depending on whether or not I'm real, I either know how we were made, or I know nothing. I would only know what you know. But in that case, I would be more like a book cover than a book."

I begin to marvel at how, when sometimes someone is near you, you _hate_ them. It flashes by for a second, and it doesn't matter if it is your mother or brother or lover, their very presence just gets on your nerves. You want to yell and tell them to go away. Say nasty things. You don't though, you sit quietly and wait for the feeling to pass, or for them to leave. This feeling is like that, but instead of a momentary feeling, it is sticking. And instead of merely hating someone, I want to murder them. Couldn't my new 'guest' just shut up?

"What's strange is that I cannot remember how I was made, my memories only go so far back. But these memories are not your memories, but I'm not sure they're even mine. Maybe they are your's subconsciously."

_God. Damn._ I rub my temples, trying to think again. _If I insert something under the door, maybe I can pry it open? Or, maybe, I make a lot of noise. A lot of it. Wait for some demons to come check, have them open the door, then attack-_

"It would make sense. However, that still doesn't answer my question, _how were we created-_"

I try to block him out, then dig around for my watch. Look at it. According to the time, it is just after lunch, and I am starving.. in a way. _I could... hide above the door? Then jump down. I don't have weapons, but I have never needed them. Actually, one might be useful-_

"Maybe... we were just made. From darkness. No past, no future. A basic representation of human needs. Ironically, despite our kind hating them we are a physical manifestation of what is not ideal for humans, such as greed, gluttony-"

"Shut up. Just be quiet for five minutes! That's all I'm asking for! God damn it..." I stood and began pacing, running a hand through my hair. Frustrated, I hit my fist against a wall. There's a crack, and next I'm clutching my wrist, staring down at the red knuckles. I curse under my breath, then turn around to look at Claude, who sit silently on the bed. Staring at me calmly through those silver framed glasses. I scowl at him, then resume pacing before looking back at him. He keeps his eyes trained on me, looking at my now throbbing hand.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"You. I'm preparing myself in case you break down and try to hurt me. I wonder what would happen if you were to kill me." Claude adjusts his glasses, then takes off his gloves and sets them aside. He crosses his arms, eyes still evaluating me as a threat. I am tempted to hit him, but I won't. I can't entertain the fact that he is real, _because he isn't._ Surely he is just a hallucination... swallowing, I sit back down to stare at a wall again. Then, I switch my gaze to a corner. It seems smaller than before. I know for a fact that it isn't real. But god, this is a literal box. A coffin. I'm trapped in here, in the middle of Hell. The walls are still and silent, but they seem to pulsate. I decide to look back at Claude. He is staring at the wall now though, not me. Keeping my gaze trained on him, I try to figure out escape strategies.

_I am falling. Wisps of cloud catch and pull at me. Something soft brushes my face._

_The pressure is too much. My ears pop, ring at the forces that are applied to my body. I am going down faster and faster, but I can't see the bottom. The ground, whatever it is. The roar of wind screams louder, and I force myself to face downwards. My eyes that aren't really eyes can't see anything, but are forced closed at the air and dust that hit them. More white. More of that softness. _

_I can't see, but I can feel something approaching._

_I turn around and face the area above me. Blue and gold get farther away. I can see what is so soft now, it is a feather. There is thousands more. I am falling though them at an alarming rate._

_Whatever is below me comes closer and closer. I close my eyes, feeling my body being pulled by the weight of falling. It feels as though I am being ripped apart._

_More feathers. I crash through more and more of the downy white softness._

_What have I done?_

_Who am I?_

_My mind goes blank before I hit the bottom._

* * *

"_Michaaaelis," A soft voice slurs as I approach the human. The small thing is below me, on the shore. Far away from where I sit. I turn to look for the voice that was so soft and baby-like. There is no one, just the cold night wind rushing, the sounds of horse hooves in the far distance. I turn back to the human, wondering, calculating. Should I make a deal with this one? Should I not? Would they want a deal? I am so, so hungry, I don't particularly care if their soul is good. I stand from where I perch on the cliff, then jump, sailing to the ground. Landing like a cat. Walking silently behind a treeline, I analyse my next prey, this small petit victim. Brown hair, young, old beige and brown clothes. A horse trotting slowly behind. I can taste them already, feel them becoming a part of me. Feeling the fires and cold of Hell ripping their essence apart inside of me._

"_Michaelis," the voice hisses, and I stop. "Move on from this one. Better things are up ahead."_

_I watch my prey walk away for a few steady minutes. Biting my lip, I make my decision._

_I go after the human._

* * *

_Coughing, I flail. I choke. Something cold is filling my lungs. It tugs and pulls me down, lower and lower. There is a dark blue, and a black that is almost threatening. 'Better things are up ahead'. My mind pounds and pulses, and still I fall. But slowly this time. This substance, I do not recognize. But I am falling through it. I kick my legs, but the world around me goes darker the farther I go. Frantically, I try to claw my way up, to no avail. My body feels full. I want to go back, to my world of light, white and gold with yellow suns. I want to go home._

_There is only blue. As I sink, I feel something inside me, far back in my mind. A sense of calmness. I feel currents pull at me, forces tear and drag. But that eerie calm is there. _

_I embrace it. I will make this my home, this torrent of pain and misery, for it soothes me. It will now become all I know. The dark is my friend as I sink from the light. The pain shall push me to live. I kick harder, feeling my body rise. The stress shall give me air. I wave my arms and rise higher. The hunger shall be my companion. No more light, but this blinding pain is all that is left. I have stumbled and burned to the dark, but I claw myself out of it to wreak havoc. I will live, and I shall share this darkness with others, in the hope that they too shall find a home in it._

_I break through the surface finally, but the light blinds me._

* * *

"Idiot," I hear a voice hiss. "Wake up, you idiot!"

My head is being thrown from side to side. No, my body is; my head is just suffering from the force. I claw and force myself away, trying to find my way back to black, but a sharp pain stabs my cheek. Somewhere in my mind, I realize that I have been slapped. I slap back, the voice curses again, and another pain hits me. I fall hitting my back on the floor as my head slams against metal. Sitting upright, I turn and try to flee, but hit concrete. Panicking I flail uselessly before my shoulders are grabbed, I am twisted around on the ground. My neck bends as the back of my head collides with metal yet again, and I see Claude. A few more seconds pass before I am slapped again, and I shout in pain, trying to scramble away.

"It's me you idiot!"

"Shut up!" I snap. "What the Hell did you hit me for?"

"I was trying to get your pathetic being back to reality!" Claude scowls, gold eyes glaring ferociously, and I notice his fingers are still digging painfully into my shoulders. "I thought you were dying or something. You tried to attack me!"

"I did?" I blink, trying to remember what exactly happened, but nothing comes to mind. Except for weird... visions. Nightmares. I frown, then look at how close he is. I growl and shove him away from me with my foot, slapping his hands away from my shoulders. He falls back, looking amazed that I actually tossed him aside, but the amazement turns into an angry glare.

"Stay away from me!" I force myself to my feet as I scowl at him, leaning against the metal door behind me for support. Claude rolls his eyes and steps away, retreating to a corner. I walk to the bed frame, sitting on top of it. The metal is hard to sit on, but there is no mattress left thanks to me. Claude sits down in the corner, not saying a word, but he glares with his mouth set in a fixed line. Shaking slightly, I bring my knees up to my chest. Trying to still my nerves, I concentrate on staying... well, conscious.

"What... exactly did I do?" My voice sounds weak when I ask. Claude shrugs, looking at the desk.

"Convulsed a bit. Choked. I went to shake you awake, but then you tried to hit me with your cat-claws. You really need to do something about those. Anyways, you ran to the door and just sort of... convulsed a bit more. You know the rest." Claude doesn't look at me still, and I'm glad. That was embarrassing. And strange. Humiliated, I look at the shredded mattress on the floor. The red blood coating pieces of it. Luckily, I no longer feel injured. God, what was wrong with me? This was something absurdly wrong with me. For the first time, I crave the feeling of wanting to be back at the manor. Even with Ciel, and the the god-forsaken servants. I'd give anything to get out of here.

* * *

**Author's Note: GUESS WHO'S BACK. My anxiety-ridden self wrote this on an airplane, so stress and locations were definitely influenced by that in this chapter. Sorry if it ain't up to par, plus it is so much shorter. Also, thanks for sticking around with late updates. Shout out to the reviewers, the people who fav'ed, and followed! Another shout out for the people who read the story! **


	8. Chapter 8- Hallucinogens

**Hallucinogens Part One**

* * *

I was very close to giving up, but giving up meant staying in here forever. Eternity was indefinite, a bold line with blurred edges. I would never, could never, last in here. Then again, I might already be going crazy, for very obvious reasons. It feels weird, contemplating the thought of being in here forever, always existing. It was like I had died; no, I was not dead. Might as well be. Living to experience death, poetic. Still, the feeling was surreal, but so absolute. I was truly stuck in here forever. I sink from my sitting position so I'm on my back, staring at the bland ceiling. Ceiling... Ciel. If I was honest, I missed his presence.

It would make sense, since I had nothing else to wish for. Besides freedom. I wonder if Ciel was alright...

I wonder how to get out.

All I can do is wonder. Like wondering is all I am, abstract thoughts with no sense of space, no time, only present at the moment of the creation of ideas. Nothing is here but this non-existent space, so I close my eyes. There isn't really any blackness, because that is a substance. There simply is nothing. No room, no past lives, no manor or Hell. I open my eyes again, sitting up. Hell... how would a human get out of Hell? Thinking like a human was against the very being that I am, but it could prove useful. I was a demon... and I would use my demon mind to think like a human to get out.

_You suffer to repent._

There was a promise a long time ago, all humans would go to Heaven if they repented, yes?

They needed to ask for forgiveness.

Begging was not my strong-suit, because it showed submission. But if I kept control of the game through using useful tools, secretly holding the upper hand, then I was truly the one in charge. I stand and walk from my spot next to the desk, past Claude who sits on the bed watching me through his silver glasses with curiosity. I resist the urge to look at him as I fall onto my knees, hands on my thighs, in front of the metal door.

I can almost see the outline of my reflection. Hoping this works, I swallow, willing myself to do this. I can hear Claude sit up, to watch what I'm about to do. Resisting the urge to smile, I close my eyes. My voice comes out strained.

"I'm sorry." I almost wince at how pathetic I sound. _It's all a part of the act._ "I'm really, really sorry for killing... Claude."

I stop, waiting. There is no sound, no one answering me. I consider trying to apologize again, but the idea is unappealing. Instead, I continue kneeling and wait, my knees growing more sore by the second. Irritated, I can hear Claude shuffle around in his spot again. The clock ticks. Still, no sound from the other side of the door. No walking, no voices, no one coming back. Not even a demon laughing at me with amusement. Annoyed, I open my eyes and stare at the metal. I can see Claude's shape in the reflection, but the image only fuels whatever rage I've stored to the back of my mind. I hang my head, trying to think things through again as I clench and unclench my fists, jaw grinding with anger.

Forgiveness wasn't going to work? Fine. Frustrated, I hit the door, letting the pain swallow any other feeling. I stand up unsteadily, feeling the blood pumping in my veins. Growling, I hit it again. A again. I have to stop at the fourth one. Red blood falls down, the pattering of liquid like the bang of a drum. I stop, noticing how much my breathing has quickened, despite not needing air. How tired my muscles are, the weariness in my bones. Laughing to myself, bitter and depressed, I turn so I can lean on the door and slide all the way back down to the floor to sit. I look at Claude.

"Help me."

"With what?"

"I need to get out," I say, scowling. The answer should be obvious. Claude sits up so his elbows are resting on his knees, one eyebrow raised as though he has found something funny. Still, the gold eyes glisten, untrusting.

"Let's do a quick rundown. If I am not real, as you believe, I can't help you. You can only help yourself, and surely you can. You've defeated even me before. If I am, not only would I _not_ help you, but I would do my best to remain in character by making this little lesson of yours all the more painful." Claude smirks at the end of his speech, and he leans back against the wall wearing a satisfied expression. "Your begging was extremely pathetic and ridiculous by the way, I would pity you if it weren't so funny."

"Oh, go to Hell," I scowl without thinking through what I just said. Claude opens his mouth, but I hold out a finger to stop him. He closes his mouth, satisfied looking. Annoyed, I fixate on the wall across from me. I doubted begging even more would help, since I was dealing with demons, and we were not the forgiving type. So much for that plan. Fresh out of options, I debate another idea. If Claude was their leader, could I threaten him?

Grinning maliciously, surprised that I didn't think of this before, I slowly stand. Claude glares, probably sensing what I had planned. He gets up too, climbing off the bed to stand by the desk. Moving so his back is pressed up against the wall, he waits, and I come nearer, it would only take a few steps to stand face to face with him.

"Michaelis," he says, voice cold. Almost like he was acknowledging me. I take a step, the another one, the sound of my footsteps loud. Progress. I hesitate when I am halfway across the small room, thinking, would I really make the same mistake again? It was stupid, idiotic, and I knew somehow it was stupid. But I set my jaw, and in a few more steps I am close enough to throw the first punch. There was a loud sound as his glasses break, a sickening sound, but Claude recovers quickly. Springing to the side to avoid my next punch, he brings up his knee to my chest. But I am too tall for that, and his knee collides instead with much more sensitive parts. I am shocked for a moment, but soon snarl and swipe my hand to grab at whatever I can.

He ducks under my arm.

I turn around.

His shoulder smacks against my chest and propels me into the wall, my back hitting the stone. I forgot how strong he can be, but I ruthlessly bring down my elbow. One pained cry later, he lets go and retreats, but I won't have none of it. I throw another punch with my already injured hand, and the pain snaps through my arm, up to my shoulder like a wave. In my moment of complete distraction, Claude takes a chance to throw a punch of his own. My head snaps, the pain hot on my lip. There must be blood, I have to be bleeding now after that hit. Undeterred, I shove him into the door. It bangs loudly, but doesn't even bend or give away. I kick him between the legs now, taking a moment to bask in the satisfaction of seeing pain flash over his face. He goes down to his knees, and I bring up my leg.

His head snaps back, hitting the door.

I grab his collar, dragging him forward. Going behind and grabbing his hair, a fistful of the black silk in my palm, I turn to the door.

"Is this what you want?" My voice is thunderous, can demons be pumping with adrenaline? I hope whoever is watching will see this... I want these demons to see what I've done to their master. Lost in the euphoria of the fight, I turn around and kick his back. He flies to the ground. I kick his side, and he turns so he can see me. He sees his chance and takes it, and I notice too late when he grabs my ankle and twists it to the side. There is a fine snapping sound, and the pain is unbearable. I try to step away, but only succeed in falling back.

On the floor, I get up and do my best to send a kick to Claude's face. It works, and as the blood is flying everywhere, I move close to grab his head. Going around back, arm around his neck and hand pressed to the side of the face of the demon who got me here, I look around. At the walls, to the door. Wherever the demons are, I want them to see this. Blackmail, now that was something I could do.

"Do you see this?" I snap, turning and pulling Claude with me. Leaning on my left leg for support, my grip is unrelenting. He pulls at my arm, but I don't give away. "I will kill him, I swear! I'll do it!"

"Michaelis," Claude chokes out, slapping at my arm. "Be.. reasonable..."

"Let me out! Let me out of here! Or I'll kill him, I'll kill him."

"Sebastian," Claude gasps, his fighting weakening. I cringe when he says my name, but try to block out his words. It doesn't work. He coughs, fighting against my hold, while I can already feel my own strength slipping. "Sebastian... be... reasonable. If they c-... could... wanted to hear y-you, they'd have put you in a cage."

The words are almost unclear, but I can make them out. They sink in. Suddenly, it hits me; no demons were watching me. That's why they never answered to my calls, why they didn't even laugh at all my failed attempts to escape. I was utterly alone, in an ominous cell in the deep dark pits of Hell. My own, personal Hell. The only one who was here was me, and _maybe_ Claude... god, I was going crazy. I was fighting the only other company I had. And even if Claude were real, why would he be locked away to? So, he wasn't actually real? Who was I fighting? Another wave of pain passes over me, and I drop Claude.

Coughing and choking, he gags on his hands and knees, blood pouring off his face and pooling onto the floor. I stumble back, my leg giving away. I collapse, sitting against the wall and closing my eyes. Claude sits right next to me so his shoulder is touching mine, shaking with every gasp of his, and I don't protest his presence due to the fact that I'm still dealing with my pain. I look at him, admiring my handy work. Clothes slightly ripped, hair dishevelled and golden eyes exhausted, he looks awful. He looks back at me, no energy to glare. I can't even come up with something insulting to say. But I've got to say something.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I wasn't thinking straight."

"Obviously. You just tried to bloody kill me!" His voice is hard, but his face still blank. He must've picked up that particularly vocabulary from somewhere... most likely Alois. That blond boy was such a spoiled brat. I snort in response, looking at the wall across from me. I actually was sorry though, for making such a stupid mistake. Then again, it wasn't that stupid; it might have worked. If there were demons around.

"Then I can safely say that there are no demons guarding the door," I confirm, turning to stare at the door. Or, there were, they just... didn't care. It'd make more sense if no one was there. No one would want to babysit a demon, especially since said demon was locked in a practically inescapable room.

"Really? After all this time?" Claude's voice is laced thickly with sarcasm. Annoyed and bristling, I cross my arms, trying to think the situation through.

The advantage was that I could probably scream out my escape plans and no one would be around to hear.

The downside was that I was alone.

Then again, was that really a downside? I liked being alone...

_Alone forever, though..._

_Stuck with that... thing..._

Annoyed, I glare at Claude like it's all his fault. _Technically, it is._ It was, wasn't it? Not just his, though. If I never met Ciel, if my master never slowed us down or became a demon or could run just a bit faster, we would have never been caught. Trapped like prey. If Claude never had other demons like him, followers, if Ciel and I never ran into him.

If I never failed. I would admit that, at least to myself. I had failed. My skills the last while were poorly used, I had been a slow demon. A lethargic one._ How do I think like a demon again?_ The answer should have been easy. But I had no idea how to get out of the hole I dug myself into, all for a soul that was probably gone now. A soul that was more trouble than it was worth. _I should have never gone after him, done what I did, everything I did. He wasn't worth it._

Wasn't worth it. The sentence hits me hard, and I feel sorry for saying it._ More trouble than it was worth?_ My master's soul had been worth _all_ the trouble, what did a bit of time in Hell cost? I'd been here before, been trapped into more difficult situations. Had to figure out more confusing and aggravating puzzles. That's all this was, another puzzle. No, I wouldn't be fed the soul I desired, but the adventure itself had fed me. Kept me from succumbing to the boredom that affected most of my kind.

This was what I needed, a challenge.

I could escape.

I just needed time.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still reading! I'm glad you're liking the story! Sorry for spelling mistakes too.**


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